Fishmonger

Fishmonger built its name on a real fish market attached to the dining room, and that arrangement shows up on the plate. The seafood tastes like it came straight off ice because it did, and the kitchen doesn't dress it up past the point of recognition. The blackened grouper sandwich is the anchor dish, juicy and well-charred, the kind of thing a neighborhood keeps ordering for years without getting tired of it.

The gumbo runs thinner than the classic version, light roux instead of heavy, but it's seasoned right and comes with toasted bread built for dipping. The room helps too: a retractable wall opens the space to daylight, plants everywhere, a spot at the bar worth claiming.

This is fresh, honest seafood cooking without the markup of a formal fish house, and it delivers on that promise meal after meal. Back-to-back Bib Gourmand recognition and a Bon Appétit Best New Restaurants nod confirm what the neighborhood already knew.

A former president ate here and it didn't change the menu. That's the tell.